Countdown 7 hours:
Is it too early to start listening to him straight through to the show? I reckon not. Better go print the tickets and put them on my desk so that everyone who walks by asks me about it.

Countdown 4 hours:
I don't even care if attendance is going to be exclusively 45 year old women. Or that he's chub with a grey bowl-cut and goatee (vs. the loveliest locks of the 70's). Or that while I enjoyed the duets and a few riffs, I did not love 'Face the Promise'. 30 seconds in to "The Fire Inside" and who gives a shit? He has more than a handful of tracks that make me want to weep the good weep. I haven't even let myself listen to "Fire Lake" or "Night Moves" yet today. It's going to be a delightful evening.

Countdown 1.5 hours:
I CANNOT BELIEVE I MISSED THIS. These fucking tickers (typo, but I'm leaving it cause it's cute) were on my desk ALL DAY LONG. AND I MISSED IT. Email inbox for days and I MISSED IT?! WTF is wrong with me?! ROW 1!!! ROW 1!!!! Best. Present. EVER. I think I'm hyperventilating.

Post Seger:
Whoa. So, um...whoa. Totally fucking awesome. Front row. Die hards everywhere - the American flag bandana kind that make you realize you're living your life ass backwards. The seats were more amazing than I imagined, providing a perfect view of that talented, muffin topped bastard. He's old, the Silver Bullets are old, they're all a tiny bit awkward. But they still GOTS IT. Heart touching, mind racing, ROCK the rest of the night. Kick you in the sentimental gut, rock. I think he knew better than to play "We've got tonight", because my heart would have imploded inside of my chest. Thanks, Bob. Absolutely amazing. Yes, I took a few video clips. It was either that, or cry.